“No,” the detective said. “We’re waiting on the ME’s report. If Mrs. Knight’s time of death is anywhere within the time frame where Mrs. Harrington is…unaccounted for, we’re charging her.”
Julia’s stomach twisted into a knot at the words. Within hours, she’d likely be facing a murder charge. Her features pinched as the door slammed shut, startling her.
A warm hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Julia, if you want to make a statement asserting your innocence, now’s the time.”
She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”
Mitchell heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’m going to give Grant an update and get a tongue-lashing from him.”
Julia reached for Mitchell’s hand, her grip tight with gratitude and desperation. “I’m sorry. Please tell him this isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”
“I don’t think that’ll do any good.” Mitchell collected his things and offered her a fleeting smile. “Wish me luck. Stay strong, Julia.”
“Thanks.” She settled back against the unforgiving chair as the door thudded closed behind her legal counsel. The room suddenly seemed smaller as she sat alone.
She wrapped her arms around herself as a shiver snaked down her spine. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to center herself.
As the minutes ticked by, the panic within her rose to new levels. She imagined spending the night in a jail cell which quickly spun into visions of spending years in a jail cell.
Maybe she’d made a foolish decision. Where was Mitchell? Could she still claim innocence for the record credibly?
Even if she did, there were enough holes in the story that they may still charge her.
At least they weren’t charging Sierra.
When the door finally opened, an angry detective stormed in toward her. He slammed his hands on the table, his face beet red. “Did you kill Lydia Knight?”
Her eyes went wide as she stared at him, his face inches from hers, his eyes bulging.
“Tell me. Did you do it?”
“That is enough, detective!” Mitchell shouted from the doorway as he strode closer.
His eyes bore into Julia’s. “I don’t think it is. I want answers from her, and I want them now. Did you do it? Come on, Mrs.Harrington, admit it. She messed with your husband. Almost cost you everything. And you pushed her over the edge of her balcony to stop the war.” He leaned closer to her, his voice lowering to a hiss. “Say it.”
“I’m going to insist you stop harassing my client, detective, or I will have your badge.”
“No, no, no, this isn’t harassment, this is an investigation. See, I’ve got security footage missing from the hours right around when Mrs. Knight died. And I’ve got an endless list of people parading in here to say they were there last. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want answers.”
Julia crinkled her brow as she slid her gaze to Mitchell. He stood stoic, unflinching in the face of the detective’s brash behavior.
“Fine. Stand up.”
Julia’s gaze flicked back and forth between the two of them.
“Stand up!” The detective shouted.
Julia swallowed hard as she pushed up to stand.
“Julia Harrington, you are under arrest for–”
“I don’t think so,” Mitchell said with a shake of his head as the man removed his handcuffs from his belt.
“I do. She’s an uncooperative witness. She hasn’t claimed innocence–”
“And you have another suspect at this very station admitting to seeing Lydia alive after Mrs. Harrington.”
Julia pulled her chin back toward her chest, surprised by the news. Who had come to the police station?
